I check Facebook to see if I have any notifications, oh,
look, I’m popular! The red box over the notifications button invites me to
click it. Disappointing. An invite for a game I really don’t want to join, some
event notifications for student nights out I don’t plan on going to, and if I’m
lucky, someone has messaged me to say hi. My favourite message at the moment is
a group one entitled ‘Jess drank pee.’ Don’t ask.
I then flick to my work pages. I frown at the PDFs I need to
download from JSTOR, and my mind draws a blank when I try and decipher the
stats on the page for Brazil’s legislative elections. Would someone like to
tell me when I signed up for a mathematics degree? Never mind making a table
out of my results, I can’t decipher the initial statistics I need to put
together.
I press the minimise button, and my university work
disappears. I turn the volume up to maximum on my iTunes, and press play. My shuffle
chooses Kate Nash. I have admittedly bad music taste in general, but this one
is good.
I hate seagulls,
And I hate being
sick.
-
Kate
Nash, I Hate Seagulls
I am so ready to pack my things up for Easter and clamber
aboard the First Great Western to London Paddington. I want my train seat back,
my pull-out tray, the window to my side. I want to stare out at the Welsh hills
and make up stories in my head that I will one day be a pro-explorer and camp
there, buying myself a patterned tent and co-ordinating camping gear, with a compact
little camping stove where I can toast pink and white marshmallows until they
go all gooey. Sugar rush.
"Toast Meeeee"
I feel so stressed out right now. For once I’m on top of my
work. Yes, I know. Miracles do happen. I've rekindled my on-off library
romance, and we are now officially back in a relationship, after spending at
least three long days in each other’s company. So that’s not a problem. I am
mostly on top of my exercise regime, apart from my recent ‘man arms’ pandemic
where a dodgy Wednesday night picture showed me looking a little bit too muscly
for my liking. So that’s not a problem, either.
I want things to be back
to normal, please.
I’ll let you in a little secret. I’m not quite as confident
as I sometimes pretend to be.
Big love, xo
